Black and White, White and Black
by JinniaFlyer450
Summary: Ah, yes, the old classic. Should the haunter and the haunted have swapped places, what would it have been like? Rated T for safety, though this is probably unnecessary.
1. Discovery

**_A/N: So, yes, it's another one of "these" I'm well aware that the premise isn't untrod ground; I've read a few stories like this, and if you feel that my version of events follows your own story's too closely, I'm more than willing to discuss it over PM._**

_Clack. Clack._

_So, if I attach here—_

_ No, are you blind? You need to move here!  
_

_ Clack. Clack._

Evening, May fifth. The go salon was filled with the clatter of stones and chatter of people playing games. Smoke wafted through the air; the proprietor argued with a would-be repeat patron at the bar over the proper number of drinks that ought to be consumed in succession at the establishment. While the patrons were mostly a sea of white hair and glasses—there was a general consensus that go was a "geezer's game"—the occasional pops of shiny black (among other colors) infiltrated the silver. Indeed, there was a boy of nine or ten playing under the watchful eye of his grandfather and a fair number of would-be competitors, interested in seeing just what the child could do.

_Clack. Clack._

Toward the center of the room, under one of the fluorescent lamps, sat an elderly woman and a younger, effeminate man. The stones lay arranged in intricate patterns across the board; the game was done, as was all discussion of said. All that remained to be dispensed were minor pleasantries.

"Again, thank you for the game, Miss Kawasaki. I really learned a great deal." The effeminate man looked across the table at the older woman, gentle.

"Of course. It's always nice to help someone learn. Especially someone like yourself. For someone who claims he's merely an amateur, you have an eye for it. How old are you?" She looked back, warm-eyed, then coughed and turned, glowering at a man at a nearby board who was blowing a cloud of smoke in her direction.

"Twenty-five." The man laughed. He suspected that he knew where this was going.

"Twenty-five? With devoted study, I'd say you could have a fighting chance in the pro test before you turn thirty, young man! Why not try?" She smiled back at the man, beginning to clear off the board. The man shook his head.

"Perhaps I could; I do enjoy the game. Yet I already have a calling, if you remember, and I would prefer to leave professional play to those who are willing to devote their lives to it. It wouldn't be fair any other way."

The woman laughed and rolled her eyes, "Ah, yes, how could any of us here forget your "calling", Mr. Fujiwara?" Most of the regulars laughed; they'd seen this routine before.

Sai grumbled. "You may laugh, Miss Kawasaki, but…it is to be my life's work, history. My one true love! As if I could adore anything else but the rich tapestry of the ancient past! The intricacies and intrigue of the Classical Imperial Court! The fierce naval battles of the World Wars! Everything we know and love today has its roots in history!" He rose from his seat, face tilted toward the ceiling, lost in his righteous furor.

Sai looked around. He seemed to deflate. "Of course, maybe it would be too much to ask for agreement…" He thought for a moment, then looked around with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "After all, given your age, I'm sure our fine company remembers what I call history quite well!" The group chuckled. Sai, satisfied for the time being, turned back to Miss Kawasaki. He seemed about to say something, but—

_Ring! Ring! _

The sound was a tinny, thin replica of the drawl of a rotary phone; Sai frowned and felt his pockets. He withdrew a cell phone, vaguely annoyed—most people knew not to bother him during his go time—and answered, holding the phone to his ear after checking the number.

"Greetings, Dr. Asano." Sai furrowed his brow even more deeply. The number…Why was Dr. Asano calling him now? The man would have normally long since left the university; something extraordinary must be afoot.

"_Fujiwara? You may want to sit down for this." _Dr. Asano's voice rasped through the receiver; normally, Sai would attribute this to one too many cigarettes, but the man seemed even more out of breath than usual, compounding his suspicions. Sai complied.

"Yes? What happened, sir?" Sai listened carefully, drinking in every word.

"_I assume you're aware of the recent death of Miss Hiroko Satome?"_

"Yes, sir," Sai replied, somber. Miss Satome had been one of the university's most distinguished alumni; Sai had seen much of the woman during his undergraduate and (current) postgraduate work, and had even sought out her help regarding topics related to classical Japan. She was a fixture in the History department, and would be missed dearly, not least by him.

"_She left it all to us. Her private collection, I mean."_

Sitting had been an excellent suggestion; even having braced himself, it was all Sai could do to not drop the phone. His jaw dropped.

"WH-WHAT?!" The yelp was a little louder than Sai probably would have liked; nearby players jumped in their seats and turned to watch, wondering what exactly Fujiwara was up to _now_.

"_Yes! She left her private collection of artifacts to the university! As soon as I heard the news, I simply had to tell you; I knew you would be just as excited as I was! Isn't it wonderful?" _

"It is! Er, I mean, not that Miss Satome is dead, obviously, but…Oh, heavens!" As much as he tried to compose himself and remember that the only reason this glorious thing had happened was because of someone's death, it was hard to extinguish the fluttery feeling in his chest. "Are you…"

"_No, but that's where I'm headed. You know where the Satome mansion is, correct? Where are you, if it isn't prying? At that Go salon?"_

Sai nodded, then vaguely recalled that he was, in fact, on the phone. "Er. Yes. I've been to dinner there once before. And yes, I am."

"_Good! I expect a prompt arrival! I could think of no better person to survey Miss Satome's gracious gift with! Good day to you!"_

_Click._

Just like that, the man had hung up. Sai slid the phone back in his pocket, lips twitching into a guilty smile. Dead woman, dead woman, dead woman…oh, but so much potential! He gave Miss Kawasaki a soft smile and aided her in putting away the last of the Go stones, fingers tripping over themselves. He then nodded, breathed a curt goodbye, and flew out the door, long hair and windbreaker flapping behind him.

Miss Kawasaki grinned after him, shaking her head. "Youth. Always charging off somewhere." Another errant puff of smoke from the table next door. A sour grimace. "Now, to deal with you…"

Miss Satome's private collection was, to put it bluntly, massive. Both she and her father had frequented auctions for most of their lives, using the income from a highly successful family business venture to purchase whatever artifacts caught their eye. They had a good eye, too—they had sold several pieces to museums that were hundreds, even more than a thousand years old and worth copious amounts of money. Who knew what other treasures father and daughter had decided to keep for themselves, hidden in the neatly ordered boxes that lined shelves and floors in the room? Well, there was only one way to find out.

"Mr. Fujiwara? You wouldn't mind getting that box down from the shelf, would you? I'm afraid my arms don't quite reach, and I'd hate to pull out the ladder quite so soon! Oh, I'm just not built for this!" Dr. Asano chuckled, motioning to the offending box.

"Of course, sir," Sai nodded, swiping the box off the top shelf. It was long and thin, and a rare breed for this room in that it was completely unlabeled. Sai, against all professional instinct, was gladdened by the unlabeled boxes; they were like wrapped presents, unknown entities until torn open. Sai speculated as to what could be inside this one. Scrolls? An instrument? Jewelry? No matter. They'd find out soon enough.

Dr. Asano waddled over to a large, metal table that the pair had set up nearby and placed the case on it. He tried the lid; the box was unlocked. A gasp. "Mr. Fujiwara, look!"

Sai scurried over, obeying, and gasped himself. So it _was_ an instrument. "Shakuhachi. How old, do you think?"

Dr. Asano procured a magnifying glass from his breast pocket and looked the flute over, frowning. "…Hard to say. I'll look it over more closely when it's brought to the university." He returned the flute to its case, closing the lid. A sudden look of mischief crossed his face, and he turned to Sai. "Mr. Fujiwara?"

"Yes, sir?" Sai tilted his head to one side slightly, gazing down upon his mentor and one of his closest friends.

"Hold your hand out." A wink. Dr. Asano's arm darted into his back pocket and began to fish for something.

Sai tossed him a suspicious glance. "This wouldn't happen to be another joy buzzer, would it be, sir?"

"What? Oh, oh no. Even if it were, you're wearing gloves, Fujiwara! How could I shock you then?" A laugh. A shake of the head. "You make no sense!"

"I trust that you'd find a way. Tell me what it is before I hold it. Or better yet, show me." Sai crossed his arms, refusing to hold out his hand.

"Fine, fine. Do you see that door over there?" Dr. Asano motioned gently.

Sai turned. The door in question would have been at home in any modern home. Of course, doors were not so important as the things they hid, and he listened.

"That door…when I arrived here, the butler told me that Miss Satome hadn't even let the maids in there for years. He wasn't even sure himself what was behind it—only that his employer had told the help that it was a special part of her collection. Well, now it belongs to _our_ employer—er, well, my employer, your school—and as such, we have the full run of it." He withdrew his hand from his pocket, offering Sai a small key. "Why don't you go in first and see whatever it was that had Miss Satome so guarded, hm?"

"R-really? You'd let me go first…?" Sai blinked, eyes widening. His face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he leaned over slightly, hugging the older man. "Th-thank you for the honor of—"

"Oh, Fujiwara, you stop that. You're making me blush." Dr. Asano chortled, extricating himself from the grip of his student with a wheeze. Oops. Maybe that had been a little too much. Sai darted back.

"S-sorry, sir. I'll go have a look." Sai turned, striding forward, sliding the key into the lock and opening the door. Dr. Asano waited, poised at the ready to go charging in if his student found anything amazing.

The room was mostly bare—a box here, a shelf there, but nothing like the viewing rooms upstairs or the private collection in the room before. No windows graced the walls—a good thing; the sun could bleach precious artifacts—and a thermostat on the wall kept the room at a constant temperature. The humidity seemed under control as well—all good, very good. Whatever was in here was likely free of water damage, at least.

In the center of the room what appeared to be an old goban stood, as if waiting for its next set of players. The goke sat on top of the goban, shut. Sai kneeled in front of the board in awe, giving it a gentle, experimental rap. Woah. Kaya wood, to be certain. And…

Oh. Oh, no…

In the upper-right corner of the board, a sickly brown stain resided, spread over almost to the middle of the board. Sai felt almost physically ill. Who'd done this to the poor, innocent goban? Slowly, gently, he ran his fingers over the spot, taking out a small rag from a shoulder bag and wiping at the stains. He sighed, shook himself, and gulped. No, no use. The stains would always be there. He attempted to return to the mindset of his profession—this might be a particularly special Go board, witness to a heinous crime. Yes, that could be it! He felt infinitely better about it n—

_You can see them?_

"Hm? Dr. Asano?" Sai whipped around, hitting himself in the face with his own hair.

…_You hear? You hear! I pray of you, listen!_

"What?" Dr. Asano called after Sai. "What did you find?"

"I…" Sai turned slightly, then gasped.

Sitting in front of the goban in seiza was a slightly translucent boy of around eleven or twelve. His hair hung in ponytails, though they didn't appear to be particularly long. His robes—one of which, Sai could recall, was a hanjiri—Heian period—accompanied by a few layers of other garments—dangled past his hands and feet, to the point where Sai couldn't quite tell where exactly boy ended and garment began. A similarly translucent fan sat on top of the goke, resting against them.

_Listen!_ The boy pouted, sighing.

"Fujiwara? FUJIWARA!" Dr. Asano stormed his way into the room as Sai's world grew dark, and he hit the ground with a thud.

The boy groaned. _Oh, zounds, this again!_


	2. Discussion

**Because I forgot it for the first chapter, I will say it twice here: Hikaru no Go does not belong to me. Hikaru no Go does not belong to me. It belongs to Hotta, Obata, and other employees at Shonen Jump.**

Sai sat in a wooden chair at his combined kitchen/dining room table, staring straight across it at the ghost floating slightly above the chair across from him. The lamp over the table was lit, casting shadows. Darkness peered through the windows, though May the fifth hadn't quite become May the sixth.

Sai sighed. Any other night, he would be in his room at his desk, feverishly typing up a research paper on his cheap, beat-up workspace. Or perhaps at the university library, paging through stacks upon stacks of books in order to find the perfect reference before he was kicked out. But no; this wasn't just any other night. Dr. Asano had forced him to promise he would stay home and rest after he'd been released from the hospital an hour before. No heavy lifting, no mind-altering substances, and most of all, no research into the wee hours of the morning.

"You need your _rest_," he had said, holding open the door for Sai on his way out, "Do you know what that is? Sometimes, I have to wonder. How late did you stay up last night? Too late, probably."

It had been three AM, actually, but that wasn't the point. Exhaustion hadn't been what'd laid him flat this evening, after all.

No, the cause of _that_ was currently matching him pseudo-glare for pseudo-glare across the table, waiting patiently for him to break the silence. May as well; it was time to get down to business. He picked up his pen, twirling it in one hand, and gazed down at his notebook for a moment before looking up at the boy.

"Hello, er…child. I'm Sai Fujiwara. What's your name?" Sai attempted a disarming smile. Easy does it, easy…

The boy jumped, eyes widening, leaning away_. Fujiwara?_ The tone was sharp; fear and surprise, definitely. _Oh! I-I deeply apologize, sir. I…er…knew naught of it. That's it! I knew naught of it. Forgive my earlier rudeness, if you would be so kind! Though, if you shall allow me to be frank…_

"Hm?" Sai leaned forward slightly. How had he managed to scare his little guest already? A small part of him mused that it served the boy right for causing that little fainting spell, but…no. Not now.

_I-I see the family resemblance. _The boy attempted a smile of appeasement. What was bothering him? Sai had no i—wait just a minute. Family. Fujiwara. Heian period.

Oops.

"A-ah, don't worry. The name bears nowhere near the prestige or power it did when you were alive. At ease, please!" Sai shook his head, leaning forward slightly. "Although…what do you mean by family resemblance?"

The boy paused for a minute, considering this. A slow smile spread across his face, and his teeth glittered. _Well, you do appear fairly feminine. And that was what they were known for, correct?_

Sai grumbled , raising a finger in protest…then lowered it, sighing. Ghost-boy had him there. "You never answered my question."

_Shindo no Hikaru. My name is Shindo no Hikaru. I may as well tell you to call me Little Shindo. Everyone seemed to end up using the term in court._ A "hrrrumph"ing noise from the boy, who sank downward an inch or so. _Though I'm eleven now, damn it all!_

Sai snorted, then nodded, lowering his pen to his notebook. _Name: Shindo no Hikaru. Age: 11_ ."In court?" He'd expected as much, given the quality of the boy's attire and his general spoiled air.

_Yes. My father was Shindo, so I am Little Shindo, apparently. Even though I could defeat them soundly at Go. They found it cute! They found me cute! Yaaargh!_

A pang of…something…passed through Sai. It wasn't anger, not exactly. It was deeper than that. Perhaps not an emotion at all. Whatever it was, it collected in Sai's stomach, threatening to expel the contents. Sai gasped, covering his mouth. Hikaru looked over, at first confused, then sheepish.

"Wha…what?" Sai gasped, swallowing back bile.

_Uh…er…my apologies. My anger must have been strong enough to affect you._ If the spirit had needed to breathe, Sai guessed that the boy would be breathing heavily at this point, still calming down. _Nickname: Little Shindo. Family status: Son of a courtier. Hobbies: Plays go. Possibly a very strong player, if assertions true. Testing needed._

_Hey! What are you writing?_ Hikaru leaned through the table, attempting to look off Sai's paper. _Wow, your handwriting's neat! But…HEY!_ A flash of righteous furor. The boy attempted to snatch at Sai's pen or notebook or both, to no avail.

"Wha—ACK!" Sai found himself swallowing bile again. What was with this kid? "Shindo, what is the meaning of this?"

_I could ask you the same question! What do you mean, "if assertions true"? You don't believe me?_ Sai teetered on the edge of throwing up for real. Ugh.

"Until I see evidence, I'm afraid I cannot—"

_Evidence, hm?_ The boy's anger faded, replaced by something else. Mischief? _You want evidence?_

Sai nodded. "It is the only way I may change my entry."

_Do you play Go?_ The boy's eyes seemed almost luminous, searching Sai's gaze for something Sai couldn't explain. Those eyes dropped to Sai's fingernails, scanning them, then returned to Sai's face after they'd found exactly what they were looking for. _You do, do you not? This shall make things far easier._

Another nod from Sai. Oh, dear. He had some idea of what he was about to be roped into, and it was a little hard to believe, even after the events of earlier today. Yet…he found himself looking forward to it. A slow, spreading smile.

_Play me. Then you may update your entry to "The best Go player I have thus far encountered. Defeated me soundly."._

Sai chuckled, smile speeding up. "I wouldn't get ahead of myself if I were you, "Little Shindo". I have played pros in my time. Produced a fair showing against them, too. I won't be a pushover."

_You speak much, milady. Prepare to be annihilated!_ The child's laughter was musical, and if he hadn't been a ghost, Sai would have asked him to quiet down in order to avoid waking the neighbors.

"Annihilated, you say? We'll see. My goban is in my room. Follow me." Sai rose from his seat, scooping up his notebook and pen and making his way back into his bedroom. The goban sat at the end of his bed, goke stacked on top, waiting for use. Sai sat on the floor at one end of the goban, cross-legged. The boy sat in seiza across from him, eyeing his position. Sai sighed and spoke, seeing the boy's words coming. "I am unused to seiza. I play most of my games at a salon, where one sits in chairs.

_Salon?_ The boy cocked his head to one side, blinking.

"Yes, a Go salon. It's a place where groups of people go to play Go together. I'm rather well known at one."

_Ooh! Might we go to this "salon"?_

Sai grinned, catlike. "Well, I don't plan to stop, so even if you didn't want to go, you would have to tolerate it."

_Excellent! Now, take a few stones!_

Sai laughed. Nigiri. He dug his hand into the goke, scooping up stones. "Even or odd?"

_Even_. Hikaru grinned. _Though I'd let you play black if you were to feel so inclined._

"As would I." Sai counted. 1…2…3…4…5…6…7. "Seven."

_Seven it is! A good thing, too! Now I will not destroy you quite as badly._

A laugh and eye-roll from Sai. "We'll see, little Shindo. We'll see."

_Okay!_ Hikaru eyed Sai, all business. _When it's my move, I shall direct my fan at where I desire to go. It is far easier that way._

Sai nodded. A decent system, that. Perfectly suited to their purposes. However, something about the statement didn't quite sit right with him. Ah, well. That could be attended to later. He flipped to the back of his notebook, drawing a 19x19 grid and labeling the top of the page "Games with Shindo" He marked down his first move, then picked up a stone.

_Clack._

The boy gazed down at the board, then pointed his fan.

_Clack_.

A few moves later, something struck Sai, rather like a jolt of static electricity from a doorknob. It made him straighten up; his eyes widening. _That_ was it. That must be what had bothered him before.

_Clack._

"You've done this before, haven't you?" Sai marked down his move, then flipped back to the front of the notebook, pen poised.

_Played Go? Why, whatever should have given you that idea? Did you suspect that I was bluffing, hm?_ A rakish wink. _Are you tiring of losing?_

"No. I mean, you've had a host before, have you not?" Sai leveled his gaze—a slight glare—at Hikaru, twirling his pen.

…_Yes. Might I ask how you concluded this?_ For the second time since Sai had come across the old goban, Hikaru seemed uncomfortable. It wasn't quite the fear that had taken hold when Sai had revealed his last name, but something at least as discomfiting. If only Sai could place exactly what it was this time!

Sai flipped a few pages forward in his notebook, labeling the top of the page _Previous Host. _"You had a system for playing against someone as a ghost at the ready, remarking, and I quote, 'It is far easier that way'. As if, perhaps, you had experimented with other methods. Of course, this being our first game together, you couldn't have been referring to anything concerning me. Therefore, another host. What was your host's name?

Hikaru's response was a fan to the board. _We may discuss this after the game is over. I pray of you, wait! Why do you concern yourself so with my history!_

Sai quieted, flipping back to the page with the developing kifu. Thus far, at the very least, the boy appeared to be able to back up what Sai had at first suspected to be idle threats. He would continue the match, however, just to be sure. "I am concerned with everyone's history, Shindo. Not just yours."

_Hm? Whatever do you mean?_ _Is that an admission of nosiness?_ Hikaru laughed, shaking the fan at his desired point on the board.

A gentle smile from Sai. He placed the white stone, then marked the move in his makeshift kifu. "I am in school to learn history. I hope to work for a museum someday."

Hikaru laughed, waiting for his opponent's next move. _Ah, of all the fellows that could have been mine in this age, I inhabit the consciousness of an academic! I suspect that this will be a boring existence._

A harsh glare. "Disrespect me all you like, Shindo, but disrespect my profession and I call for an exorcist."

Hikaru gasped, reeling backward. _You wouldn't dare, you foolish womanly-man!_

Sai didn't ease up on his glare. "Wouldn't I? _Behave_, Shindo, or I promise you you won't get to share anyone's consciousness at all."

_I concede, I concede!_ Hikaru threw his hands up, his robe fluttering in the air. _I am quite certain that your profession is, er, one of the most non-dull, uh, vocations to have ever been created. Do not exorcise me!_

"Much better. Now, it is my move, correct?" Hikaru nodded. Sai played his move, then marked it down. Immediately, Hikaru pointed at a place, a smile hiding behind his gaze.

_Clack._

They continued on like this for several moves more before Sai lowered his head. It was a loss—and a glaring one—but with what Sai knew was coming after the loss, he didn't especially care. "I resign."

_I did warn you, Fujiwara. I warned you!_ That same musical laughter from earlier spilled from the boy's mouth, threatening to bring down the walls of Sai's room. Sai marked down the last move in the kifu, then flipped back to the front of the notebook.

"That's all well and good, Shindo, but you do remember what you promised, correct? That you would tell me your host's name after the game? The game is over."

The beginning of a shout of protest died in Hikaru's throat. He lowered his gaze. _I…I suppose that is what I said, huh?_

"Yes, you did. And a deal's a deal. Now, what was their name?" Sai's eyes bored holes into Hikaru's soul. His pen was twirled between his fingers, hitting the paper on occasion.

_Tap. Tap._

_His name…well, when I first knew him, he was called Kuwabara Torajiro._

"Kuwabara Torajiro, hm?" _Name: Kuwabara Torajiro_. That…that sounded familiar. Where had Sai heard that name before? Where?

Wait.

Oh.

OH!

"Was…was his name Hon'inbo Shusaku later in life?" Sai's voice quavered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Hikaru nodded.

For the second time that night, Sai Fujiwara fainted.


End file.
